


Song for Someone

by Tevura



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Character Death, Ficlet, Goodbyes, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M, Original Character(s), Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:15:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26807227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tevura/pseuds/Tevura
Summary: The Guardian is late for date night.
Relationships: The Drifter/Guardian (Destiny), The Drifter/Male Guardian (Destiny)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 17





	Song for Someone

Drifter kneeled over his latest project, finally more than the barest assembly of armature and components he'd started with. He'd been working for hours now, the tools, materials, and notes surrounding him becoming increasingly scattered as he fell into the familiar rhythm of construction, tuning out the ambient creaks and whines of his ship to focus solely on the machine before him.

This sharp focus was broken only when his Ghost alerted him that the Guardian's ship had neared the Derelict.

Drifter huffed and checked the time. Miles was notorious for getting sidetracked- perhaps he should count himself lucky the Guardian had shown up at all, even if it was almost a full eight hours past their planned meeting time. He rose to his feet, clearing floor space until the telltale sound of transmat rang out from the stern of the ship.

"That you, Hero? You're late," Drifter called lightheartedly as he crossed the catwalk, entering the rear of the Derelict. He stood there a moment, scanning the metal railings and platforms, surprised that Miles was not already before him. Instead, he found him sitting on the floor before the ring-shaped launching mechanism, staring off at the Haul.

Drifter approached him quietly, sensing that something was off. As he neared, the feeling grew to apprehension- with the intensity of the sunlight reflected off the Haul, Miles' back was in shadow, but he could make out an irregular rough texture to his robes. Bullet holes. It was draped loosely over his shoulders, much like a blanket, painting an odd picture of vulnerability in Drifter's head. Of frailty.

"You alright?" he asked, concern bleeding into his voice. He stood over Miles' shoulder, and the younger man turned to look at him. His face raised to catch the sunlight, illuminating the ruins of his features.

Drifter's jaw set as he took in the busted lip, the broken nose, the ruptured eye. The skin marred and bloodied from shrapnel. Miles held his coat closed around him, leaving the rest of his injuries to Drifter's imagination.

Miles wheezed softly and turned his face away, unable to bear the strain of holding it up so high. Drifter stared on in shock for a moment, absorbing the weight of situation.

"Finally got ya, huh?"

Miles' body sagged in response, and he slumped against the railing next to him. He was utterly defeated. Drifter knelt next to him and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, can you move? We can get you cleaned up," he offered, unable to quell the tremor in his voice that betrayed his growing sense of dread. Miles sighed, then shifted, leaning into Drifter's chest.

"Just stay with me," he murmured.

Drifter wrapped his arms around the Guardian. "Could ask you the same," he said softly.

"Sorry, I'm out of favors."

The pair sat there in silence a while, listening to the hum of the Derelict, to the steady drip of Miles' blood, to the breaths between them.

"Could probably get you something for the pain," Drifter offered eventually. "Make it all... easier."

"What, Hive eyes?"

"Well, not eyes."

"I don't wanna go numb. Would rather be awake," he mumbled, slurring slightly.

Drifter gave his arm a light squeeze. "You couldn't have gone to the Tower? They'd have been able to do something."

"Wouldn't make it." Miles gingerly opened his coat, wincing at the movement. As he did, his eyes welled with tears. "And it wouldn't bring Ghost back."

Drifter looked over Miles and frowned. "Surprised you made it here," he muttered after a pause.

"Mm," Miles hummed, his eyelids fluttering.

"Hey, that ain't your cue," Drifter said, gently shaking him until his eyes opened again. "Stay with me, now."

"Aw, you do care," Miles teased between ragged breaths.

"Of course I do." His voice was tender. And a little sad. He leaned forward, pressing kisses to Miles forehead as softly as he could. In turn, the Guardian raised his head up just so, his eye locking with the Drifters'.

Drifter gave a sad smile and kissed his lips, coming away with the taste of blood.

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

Miles relaxed in Drifter's arms, and he shook him until his eyes opened once more. With all the time he'd been given as a Lightbearer, individual hours, minutes, seconds had lost their weight, the years starting to blend together and run faster and faster. But he was desperate now for just a few more precious moments.

"Come on, stay with me. Just a while longer."

"Can't let my last words be 'I love you?'" Miles mumbled, his eyelids already slipping.

"How do you feel?" Drifter asked, ignoring the quip.

"Some hurts. Can't feel the rest."

"Ah- no, I know," he soothed, running a hand through Miles' hair. "I mean you. How do you feel?"

"I..." Miles struggled to swallow. "I couldn't save Ghost. But he saved me. Got the transmat off before they grabbed 'im. And now I'm here. Business unfinished. Tryin' to accept what's happened.

"I don't wanna die. I'm not... I wasn't done."

"Could've expected as much from ya, Hero."

"Drifter... If there's one thing," Miles started weakly, "one thing I could ask you to do for me? Find Ghost. Whatever's left of him. I can't leave him out there, alone."

Miles' hand reached up through the coat to rest gently against Drifter's chest. He took the hand, grasping it as firmly as he dared.

"I promise." His response was emphatic, even if it was choked by the lump in his throat. Miles seemed satisfied, closing his eyes again and relaxing into Drifter's arms.

"Thank you."

Drifter stroked his hair for a while, listening to Miles' shallow breathing and to that steady dripping sound, like an hourglass counting down their last remaining seconds.

"How about that li'l ditty you like, hmm?" Drifter offered. He got no response, but began to hum anyway. A tune he'd picked up long ago, some folksy melody he'd heard back on Earth.

He hummed a while, even after Miles stopped listening.


End file.
